A Lesson in Friendship
by Ariel D
Summary: Set after SB. Entreri gives Jarlaxle a lesson in how to ride a horse, and in the process, they begin to learn lessons about friendship.


**A Lesson in Friendship**

By Ariel-D and Surreptitious Chi X

_Description: Set after SB. Entreri gives Jarlaxle a lesson in how to ride a horse, and in the process, they begin to learn lessons about friendship._

_Disclaimer: Belongs to RAS and Wizards of the Coast, not me. No profit is being made._

_Author's Note: A gift fic for dmichelle312! We hope you enjoy._

_Reference on horse riding: Katherine Blocksdorf_

* * *

><p>After Jarlaxle had been on the Surface for six months, Entreri approached him with an unavoidable fact. He marched right into Jarlaxle's "throne" room-or so Entreri insisted on calling it-underneath the Basadoni Guild and planted himself in front of Jarlaxle's nicely padded chair. "You need to learn to ride a horse."<p>

"A horse? Of course I know what a horse is, but why should I be required to ride one?" Jarlaxle asked.

"In the event that you need non-magical transportation." Entreri smirked. "You don't want to cross a desert on foot, I assure you."

"I have no plans to cross a desert, but I concede that your point is valid." Jarlaxle stood. "Very well. Where is the horse?"

"The guild has a stable," Entreri said. "I have a nice tame one picked out. Very docile. Unlikely to bite you or throw your ass down the street." Everyone once in a while, he liked to tease Jarlaxle or toss some humor his way. Unlike most people, the drow usually responded well to Entreri's sense of humor.

Jarlaxle laughed. "I appreciate the generosity. If this beast is as tame and docile as you claim, I shall no doubt be riding circles around you in but a few days."

Secretly pleased at Jarlaxle's reception of his teasing, as well as his reception of his claim, Entreri nodded. "In that case, you need to evoke a magical disguise so you don't get lynched. After all, we have to do this outside in public view."

"Oh." Jarlaxle considered that. Then he smiled. "I have just the thing. I will be able to change my skin color, and then all we shall need to do is wrap me up like one of your nomads and I will be indistinguishable from a human."

"Very well." Entreri patiently waited as Jarlaxle transformed himself, then led him to the stables. A white mare with grey spots awaited them, already saddled. Being an average horse, she was five feet tall, and given that both Entreri and Jarlaxle were 5 foot 5, that left Jarlaxle gazing just above the horse's back.

Jarlaxle stared at the mare with wide eyes. "This creature is enormous. I am supposed to ride this while retaining command? It must be docile indeed."

"If you feel that way, you should meet my horse," Entreri drawled. "At any rate, we'll start with the basics." He promptly illustrated the correct way to mount a horse, which of course had nothing in common with how to correctly mount a riding lizard.

Once he dismounted, he gestured for Jarlaxle to try. "Don't worry about the reins," he added. "I'll be leading the horse to our designated spot."

Jarlaxle mimicked Entreri's actions and found himself astride the horse. "This seems very high up . . . I imagine it would hurt to fall from one of these horses. Falling off is not much of a hazard when learning to ride a lizard."

"So I can imagine." Entreri had attempted to learn riding a lizard while in Menzoberranzan and had hated it. The creature was too short, and he had to bend his legs almost flat. Very unwieldy. "All right. Some basic things to consider are how to sit in the saddle correctly and how to tether the horse. Also, how to lead the horse." He figured he was teaching Jarlaxle all out of order, but he didn't really care. If Jarlaxle learned it, then it was fine. Therefore, he untied the knot while he explained it and narrated both leading the horse and sitting in the saddle as he led Jarlaxle and the mare to an abandoned neighborhood a dozen blocks away.

"This creature's gait is jarring," Jarlaxle complained. "How can anyone ride a horse comfortably?"

"You get used to it with practice," Entreri said. "It's always jarring at first, but try to relax into the gait. Also, you're probably using muscles that you rarely use in other activities."

"I use all the muscles of my body," Jarlaxle said. At the same time, he winced. "I am being bounced up and down. Really, my friend, I think riding lizards are far superior. I should import some. People would welcome such mounts if they only knew how comfortable they were."

Entreri snorted. "You're barely getting away with being here now, much less if you import riding lizards. Also, unless the creatures are properly adapted to desert conditions, they might die." Even though Jarlaxle had long since taken to calling him "friend," he still didn't quite know what to make of it. Still, Jarlaxle had taken up sparring with him and seemed to genuinely enjoy it. Since that was unheard of in Entreri's life, he didn't contest Jarlaxle's word choice.

"I am certain that we could breed desert-resistant riding lizards," Jarlaxle said.

Turning the corner, Entreri led mare and drow into the abandoned neighborhood, which had seen a series of riots and raids over the last fifteen years. It was nothing more than a collection of rundown shacks with missing doors and a street made of hard-packed sand. To Entreri, the place was uncomfortably similar to his childhood neighborhood, and for some reason, such things now stirred up memories and reactions in him more than they did when he was younger. Did nearing the age of 40 truly make such a difference, as his elders had always griped? "We'll practice here."

Jarlaxle looked around curiously. "This place reminds me of the Braeryn. I spent much of my young adulthood working as a mercenary in settings like these."

Glancing up, Entreri considered the revelation. Jarlaxle rarely ever said anything personal about himself and never about his past. That Jarlaxle had chosen to comment now reinforced the image of potential friendship, and that appealed to Entreri in an almost dangerous way. "Much of the real Calimport looks this way. Only a small section is inhabited by the nobles and their palaces." He brought the horse to a halt. "All right, the first thing you have to understand is how to stop your horse."

"That would be helpful," Jarlaxle agreed wryly.

Entreri dropped straight into all-business mode. "To cue for a halt, close your fingers on the reings and squeeze backward. The horse should stop as she feels the backward pull on the reins. If the horse has halted correctly she will have her nose down, will not swing to one side, and will be standing square. If the horse flips her head up, you may have applied the cue too sharply. If the horse swings or turns, you may not be holding the reins evenly." He paused. "Always remember to not yell at or hit your horse. Preferably ever. But definitely for something that is probably your mistake."

"I do not hold with abusing animals, especially those that do important work," Jarlaxle said. "How do I tell the horse to start walking so that I may practice both commands?"

"Gather your reins so that you feel a light contact between your hands and the bit," Entreri said. "Use both lower legs to squeeze the horse lightly. At the same time, cue with your seat by pushing forward slightly with your seat muscles. Keep in mind that some horses are less willing to move forward than others. If your horse doesn't begin to walk, nudge with your lower leg. If that doesn't work, urge the horse forward with your heels."

Jarlaxle took a deep breath and carefully gave it a try. He managed to do what he needed to do with his lower body, but he was behind on the cue with his reins. The mare generously started walking anyway. A smile flitted across Jarlaxle's face, quick and genuine. Then he closed his fingers around the reins and squeezed backwards lightly, keeping his hands even.

The mare stopped, her nose down, and had her legs planted squarely underneath her.

"Good horse!" Jarlaxle said enthusiastically. He beamed at Entreri. "This isn't so bad. Riding lizards are far more disobedient. They're really quite stupid things."

"Calishites pride themselves on breeding the best horses in Faerun," Entreri said. "Horses in general are intelligent, but Calishite horses are superior." He gestured for Jarlaxle to continue. "Keep practicing. Remember to let your body move with hers, and don't hold the reins too tightly. Keep good posture and never gaze downwards. First of all, you need to be watching where you're going. Secondly, it will make your neck hurt."

Jarlaxle nodded, taking in the advice. "It is a far greater skill to ride an intelligent creature. I shall enjoy practicing with the horse."

Jarlaxle spent the next fifteen minutes walking the mare up and down the street, practicing how to steer, how to stop, and how to start. The mare showed no sign of minding, in spite of the pointlessness of going in circles.

"She is a tolerant creature, isn't she?" Jarlaxle asked when he neared Entreri once again.

"Yes," Entreri said. He gestured for Jarlaxle to stop, then produced a carrot for her to eat. "It's worthwhile to offer horses a reward. Also, you need to keep them well-groomed and not keep them saddled too long. The saddles can cause discomfort, so you should always make sure to fit the saddle correctly. I'll show you that when we return." He petted her nose. "By the way, her name is Rasha."

"Rasha." Jarlaxle seemed enchanted. "I wish to ride Rasha again soon. What does the grooming process entail? For riding lizards it is very simple."

"Cleaning away sweat and dirt from the horse's back and face," Entreri said. "And also brushing the horse down and checking its hooves for rocks. Also, you want to make sure to give your horse time to cool down. You don't want her to still be huffing when you put her in her stall."

"Will you teach me these things when we return to the stable?" Jarlaxle asked. "I would like to do them personally."

Entreri nodded. Although it wasn't anything he would admit to, one of his measures for a man was how he treated animals. Entreri held himself to high standards as it concerned the treatment of horses, which were the animal he was most often around. "Certainly. Most people won't teach you to ride a horse until you learn such things. In our case, the guild's stable hands often take care of such things, but should you ever decide to own your own horse, you will learn the horse better and build a better bond of trust if you do the whole process yourself."

"I always take care of my mounts myself," Jarlaxle said. "I am not going to compromise that rule." He smiled at Rasha fondly. "Shall we go back?"

"We shall." Entreri gave him a quick lesson on riding with two riders, then mounted behind him, wrapping his arms loosely around Jarlaxle's waist. Although it wasn't a long walk back, he saw no reason not to ride, especially since it would slow them down for Entreri to make the horse keep pace with him.

Jarlaxle led with confidence. "Thank you for the lessons. You are right; I would have missed out on something important if you had not insisted."

"Indeed. One never knows what skills one may need," Entreri murmured, thinking of the uneasy way Jarlaxle's lieutenants were shifting and complaining. Clearly they did not enjoy being on the Surface or dealing with Surface matters, even if a great deal of profit were being made. It would seem they enjoyed hiding down in Menzoberranzan with all its xenophobic poison.

Jarlaxle, though, was different.

"Or what adventures may be had," Jarlaxle said, smiling broadly. His smile faded a little. "I never imagined I would have such a perfect opportunity to be rid of my guards for a while. They follow me everywhere. For my own protection, of course. But it does cause tiresome breaches of security. If I truly want to tell someone something private, I have to figure out a way to slip from the guards without their knowledge that I have intended to do so."

Jarlaxle glanced back at Entreri. "They won't follow me out into the streets. None of my soldiers will venture into Calimport. These riding lessons will provide a way for us to get to know each other without interference."

_You want to get to know me?_ Entreri thought, only to remember the way that Jarlaxle had dropped in on him while he was herding goblin slaves and just chatted. Not that that at all alleviated the humiliation of being forced to herd goblins, of course. "And what is it that you wish to know?"

"You," Jarlaxle said, confused. "What I meant to say is that I wish to know you well. To know you and also to spend time with you without needing to perpetuate the myth of Jarlaxle, the male with a thousand faces and a thousand motives. Sometimes, I simply wish to enjoy myself with a friend, to learn new things about the world, to have adventures. Not everything I do is a plot. My life as a drow simply necessitates that I claim everything is a plot. One must pretend to be complicated for protection." He sighed. "I grow tired of pretense."

Entreri pondered this for a solid three minutes, turning it over and over in his mind as a jeweler would examine a gem. "I play Calishite chess," he finally said. "I could teach you."

Jarlaxle lit up, flashing him a genuine smile. "I will be a dedicated student, I assure you."

Entreri relaxed behind Jarlaxle, finding suddenly that the ride back felt less awkward now. Dondon had been his previous chess partner, and it had been ten years now since he'd played. Before he'd proven quite good, though, so he didn't think he'd be too rusty. "There is also a Calishite game named Tangent Tarco, which is another logic-based game; however, it is just as much about luck as logic. No doubt you'd like it."

Jarlaxle chuckled. "Do you like it, or do you hate it because it relies partly on luck?"

"I enjoy it, usually," Entreri said. "I try to have a sense of humor about it." Anyone else would have choked on their own spit to hear him say that. "You can't take it too seriously. You can play perfectly but still lose all your pieces in an instant due to bad luck." He reflected on his experiences playing it with Dondon. "In short, you can't play it with someone who is immature. They'll ruin it for you."

"I won't have that problem with you," Jarlaxle said. "And the game sounds interesting. I no doubt will find Tangent Tarco highly amusing."

"You have four colors to chose from for your pieces," Entreri said. "I'm always red." He smirked. "There's a purple that is the exact color of your hat."

Jarlaxle declared, "That shall be my color when we play. Purple is my favorite color."

"I figured you'd say that." Entreri found himself teasing Jarlaxle again. It wasn't something he was often able to do with other people. Most people had trouble even detecting he had a sense of humor to begin with. Once more, he found himself reflecting on the fact Jarlaxle was different somehow.

Jarlaxle chuckled again. "Yes. I make no secret of my preferences-preferences about small things, unlikely to get me killed, but very likely to help me form a bond with someone. A shallow bond, to be sure, given the people around me are other drow, but a bond is a bond nonetheless. Life is about bonds. Who one knows can be a gift or a terrible burden. I wish it to be a gift." He paused for a moment, gazing off to the side. "When I learned of other peoples and other ways-of humans, for example-I was filled with wonder. Even now I often think how very lucky one must be not to be a drow."

"Depends on what level of humanity you're born into," Entreri groused, "or get stuck dealing with. As you've seen, the humans in the thieves' guilds are not so different. If you'd like to travel over to the noble's district, though, you can mingle with people who literally eat food off of silver or gold platters and have never suffered anything in their lives worse than an inconvenience or a stubbed toe. They can lie around all day quoting or writing love poetry to each other and feeding each other grapes."

Jarlaxle grimaced in distaste. "I don't wish it. I wish for such vacuous creatures to find another plane of existence to inhabit. I mean merely that few other faces of beings are so universally reviled as drow. To start a conversation I must convince another person, a non-drow, to set aside everything they have learned and risk perhaps thirty seconds of their time. Thirty seconds. If I cannot convince someone to give me a chance within thirty seconds, it will not happen. Sometimes all I need is to interest the person. To make them curious, as I did with you. You allowed me a chance initially because you are a curious person. You need to know things about other people. So I had a chance." He teased, "Even now, you are with me because you are curious. You are probably not certain that you like me, but you are curious."

For a moment, Entreri reflected that it was perhaps unfortunate that there was no way in the nine hells that he could tell Jarlaxle what he really wanted: friendship and loyalty. Such basic requests, and yet they'd been denied him from birth. Meanwhile, Do'Urden got to roll in them like a cat in a field of catnip. "Quite curious. And the race doesn't make the man." Of course, what he really meant was that there were jackasses in every race and that being a jackass was an equal opportunity ability. Still, it did make it true that all races were ultimately the same, with one not better than another.

Because he was touching Jarlaxle, Entreri could feel how suddenly Jarlaxle relaxed. "The race doesn't make the man," Jarlaxle murmured. "How wonderful a truth."

And because Jarlaxle could not see him, Entreri actually smiled. It was true that they both lacked racism. Or sexism, as best he could tell. They seemed to both share the belief that people had to be gauged as individuals. That was no doubt the reason Entreri had gotten a chance with Jarlaxle, for certainly he would have been dismissed as iblith otherwise. "External elements are meaningless. Those who make judgments upon such things end up dead." He smirked. "A more basic version of that occurs when people assume I am not dangerous simply because I am short and small."

Jarlaxle let out a laugh. "Short and small? Your spirit is big, my friend. Indeed, whenever you enter a room, the other occupants have little space to move."

A wicked grin flashed over Entreri's face. "Does that make _you_ curious about _me?_ Even if you're not sure you like me?"

The drow mercenary threw back his head and cackled. "It does indeed."

Since they had reached the stables, Entreri dismounted first, secretly pleased to have caught Jarlaxle's interest on this front. Dangerous feeling, that. But he ignored it, instead showing Jarlaxle how to take off the saddle and blanket and how to groom the horse.

Jarlaxle was entranced. He followed Entreri's instructions exactly and soon worked up a rhythm grooming Rasha. The drow mercenary lingered perhaps more than necessary, but responded quickly when Entreri had him move on. By the time they left the stables together, Jarlaxle seemed beautifully peaceful. "What a privilege it is to care for a warm-blooded animal."

"A warm-blooded animal who clearly has decided she likes you," Entreri noted. "By the way, you might find yourself sore in the morning, especially in your seat and thighs."

Jarlaxle grinned. "Whatever discomfort I experience will be worth it."

Entreri snickered. "You only say that because I chose horses. If I'd had you learn to ride a camel, you'd be cursing my name."

Jarlaxle laughed.


End file.
